


a light in the room

by liggytheauthoress



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explosions, Hate Crimes, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:19:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4452782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liggytheauthoress/pseuds/liggytheauthoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They’ve been together for over a year before Agron finally manages to say it.</p>
<p>He’s long since realized that what he feels for Nasir is more than just lust or infatuation - he’s pretty sure it always has been, right from that first night - but he can’t bring himself to say the words, not out loud, not even in his head.</p>
<p>Until he almost loses the chance to say them for good."</p>
<p>A modern day Nagron fic loosely inspired by events from the TV show Queer as Folk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a light in the room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [star_buckys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_buckys/gifts).



> So I got sucked into Spartacus - and Nagron - a few months ago and since then my brain will not stop thinking of AUs. And when it came up with a Queer as Folk AU I had to write it (because hey, fandom I've never written for plus show I barely know is a promising combination, right?).
> 
> Dedicated to Shelby, who is the one who got me into the fandom and who is the primary reason I wrote this damn thing, thank you for ruining my life <3

They’ve been together for over a year before Agron finally manages to say it.

He’s long since realized that what he feels for Nasir is more than just lust or infatuation - he’s pretty sure it always has been, right from that first night - but he can’t bring himself to say the words, not out loud, not even in his head.

Until he almost loses the chance to say them for good.

* * *

_Agron most definitely hadn’t wanted to go to Vesuvius that night. Or ever again, for that matter; the last thing he needed was another place bursting with memories of Duro. He hadn’t been back to that place in eight months and he saw no reason to change that._

_But Saxa, obnoxious as ever, had bullied him into it, saying that turning into a social recluse wasn’t healthy and that he needed to go out and meet people (her actual words had been more along the lines of, “You really fucking need to get laid,” but the message had been clear), and with the rest of their friends backing her up, Agron hadn’t had much choice._

_He hunched over the bar, nursing his drink and ignoring the throng of bodies and music around him. Three different people had tried to pick him up so far, but he was far from interested. Saxa and the others had all vanished soon after they arrived, and he turned around to scan the club for them._

_And then one of the dancers caught his eye._

_Agron had never bought into any of the overused cliches that were so favored by Hollywood writers and romance novelists - maybe that shit did happen in real life, but not to him - but right at that particular moment he would have sworn his breath actually_ hitched _._

_He was, presumably, a new employee (although Agron hadn’t been here in months, for all he knew the guy could have been working here for ages), and Agron was willing to bet he was a popular one, too. He had long dark hair, partially pulled back to frame an alluring face, and the cropped mesh t-shirt and impossibly tight jeans left almost nothing to the imagination - and right now Agron’s imagination was honestly doing more than enough to fill in the blanks._

_He was moving his hips in a way that was absolutely not fair, at all, and Agron subconsciously licked his lips as he watched the other man start slowly shrugging out of his shirt._

_The dancer’s gaze suddenly met his unexpectedly, and as he watched the younger man eye him suggestively, pulling his shirt the rest of the way off with his teeth, Agron knew he was in trouble._

_A_ lot _of trouble._

_Agron swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and turned back around to face the bar, taking a swig from his drink. When he thought he’d more or less gotten control of himself, he turned around to see what the dancer was doing, almost yelping in surprise when he realized that the younger man was now standing next to him, still extremely shirtless._

_“I saw you come in with Chadara’s group. You been here before? Because I’m pretty sure I’d’ve remembered seeing you.”_

_And okay, Agron definitely did_ not _blush._

_“I...haven’t been here in a while,” he said once he’d regained the ability to speak English. “Pretty sure I would’ve remembered you too.”_

_The dancer grinned and briefly turned away to order a drink of his own. He called the bartender by name, and Agron deflated a little when he realized the guy was probably just doing his job right now, chatting him up; there wasn’t much genuine interest there._

_Still. That didn’t mean Agron couldn’t flirt like hell._

_“So...you have a name?_

_“Around here they tend to use the name Tiberius.” He smirked, adding, “But my friends call me Nasir. I’ll let you pick which one you’d rather use.”_

_It was a subtle distinction, but one Agron caught onto nonetheless._

_“Nasir it is, then.”_

_A small, warm smile flitted across Nasir’s face before being replaced by a look that made heat pool in Agron’s stomach. Leaning forward, his lips almost brushing Agron’s ear, Nasir purred, “And my_ closest _friends get to do a lot more than that.”_

* * *

It only takes one sentence for Agron’s world to screech to a horrible, sickening halt.

"This just in: there's been an explosion at popular local gay club Vesuvius." Just that one sentence, and Agron swears he feels his stomach drop out of his body. “Authorities fear there may be many injuries, possibly fatalities.”

_Possibly fatalities._

Clenching the back of the driver’s seat in a white-knuckled grip, Agron growls, “Turn this fucking car around.”

* * *

  _What about moving in with me?”_

_There was a silence in the car that told Agron he’d taken Nasir by surprise. Hell, he’d taken_ himself _by surprise when he’d first come up with the idea - he was not known for domesticity, he’d never actually lived with a partner before, but for some reason the idea of actually sharing a place with Nasir was oddly appealing to him._

_When Nasir still didn’t say anything, Agron added, “I get if you don’t want to, I just thought I’d ask-”_

_“Did you hear me say I didn’t want to?” Nasir cut him off. “I definitely want to. I was just trying to figure out what the hell would have prompted you asking me to.”_

_Agron shrugged. “Just something I’ve been thinking about. You’re over there most of the time as it is. And it’d be nice not to have to drive halfway across town whenever we want to fuck.”_

_A pause, then, “So this proposed arrangement of yours is purely for convenient fucking purposes?”_

_There was something playful in Nasir’s tone that made Agron glance over for a moment, and yup, he did not like the mischief he saw in those eyes. “Yup,” he said, although it didn’t sound quite as firm as he wanted it to. “That’s pretty much it. Why, anything wrong with that?”_

_“Oh, nothing’s wrong with it. I’m completely on board for a more convenient fucking arrangement.” The “but” was unspoken, but definitely there. “Just that, if a person didn’t know better, they might think you were almost being romantic.”_

_Agron’s scoff came out as way more defensive than he intended it to. “Not fucking likely.”_

_“Because that would be totally out of character.”_

_“Completely out of character.”_

_“Because you’re allergic to romance.”_

_“Deathly allergic.”_

_Instead of replying, Nasir just gave him a cocky grin, the one he gave whenever he knew he was right about something, and Agron groaned, “Don’t make that fucking face.”_

* * *

Nasir’s not answering his phone.

Agron knows there could be any number of harmless reasons for that - he dropped it while they were evacuating the building, had it on vibrate and didn’t know Agron was calling, forgot to charge it this morning so that by now the battery had died - but every time it goes to voicemail his chest feels a little tighter.

_Please._

Voicemail.

_Not him._

Voicemail.

_God, not him._

Voicemail.

* * *

_"Hey, it’s Nasir. I can’t answer my phone right now-”_

_“Probably because he’s busy doing NC-17-rated activities with me.”_

_Nasir shoved Agron’s shoulder and made an exasperated noise. “Would you knock that off? That is not going to be my voicemail, now shut up.”_

_Agron just grinned and nuzzled Nasir’s neck as his boyfriend erased yet another recording from his new phone - one more failed attempt to set his new voicemail without Agron “helping” him._

_“Hey, it’s the truth,” Agron muttered._

_“That doesn’t mean I want you advertising our sex life to anyone who calls me.”_

_“I’d’ve thought that anyone calling you would be thrilled to hear about our sex life.” Agron pouted a little. “And if they wouldn’t I don’t know why you’d want to talk to them in the first place.”_

_Nasir rolled his eyes. “How about I make you a deal? You go in the bedroom, right now, and I’ll come join you as soon as I’ve recorded this.”_

_Agron made a show of pretending to mull it over. “Fiiine,” he said in faux reluctance, earning another eyeroll from Nasir. He intentionally took his time getting off the couch, pausing to press a kiss to the top of Nasir’s head, before murmuring, “Don’t take too long,” and making a mad dash for the bedroom._

_He only had so much restraint, after all._

_Later, while Nasir was in the shower, Agron couldn’t resist calling his phone._

_“Hi, it’s Nasir - sorry I can’t answer the phone right now. Leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” There was a pause, and when Nasir spoke again Agron could hear the smile in his voice. “And if this is my idiot boyfriend, I miss you and I’ll see you soon, babe.”_

_Agron grinned. “Idiot boyfriend speaking,” he said into his phone. “I miss you too. Now hurry up with that shower and get your extremely gorgeous ass back into bed or I will be forced to take drastic measures.”_

_To his credit, he manages to wait a whole five seconds longer before getting up and rushing to ambush Nasir in the bathroom._

* * *

When Agron gets there, it’s chaos.

The cab driver drops him off half a block away - with all the emergency vehicles it’s impossible to get any closer - and Agron doesn’t even wait to hear the fare, just tosses a fifty at the driver and bolts, leaves the door hanging open behind him because who the fuck cares about any of that right now? There’s a muffled ringing in his ears, he’s not sure if it’s the sirens or just in his own head, and frankly he doesn’t give a fuck either way. His feet barely touch the pavement as he sprints the rest of the way, only to stumble to a halt as he rounds the corner and gets his first real look at the scene.

The front of the club is almost completely gone, a mess of charred rubble in its place. There are ambulances and fire trucks and flashing lights everywhere, paramedics swarming around and looking infuriatingly calm in contrast to the maelstrom churning in Agron’s gut, people standing around with bruised and dirty faces and shell-shocked expressions.

It only takes Agron a moment to take all of it in before he’s scanning the crowd for the familiar head of raven hair.

_Please._

He hears someone calling his name and jerks his head in the direction of the voice, but when he sees it’s Pietros - sees the devastated expression on the boy’s face - his heart sinks.

Agron shoves his way over, not even trying to mask the panic in his voice. “Pietros? What the _fuck_ happened??”

Pietros is visibly shaking, looking small and fragile where he’s tucked tightly into Barca’s side. Barca replies for him, pulling him closer as he does. “I don’t fucking know, man, they’re saying it might have been a bomb, fucking Christ…”

“Nasir,” Pietros says sharply, finding his voice again, and instantly all of Agron’s attention is on him. Agron can’t even manage to form his racing fear into a question before Pietros confirms exactly what he didn’t want to know.

“Nasir’s still in there-”

That’s all Agron needs to hear.

He takes off like the devil himself is at his heels, pushing people out of the way, not even trying to dodge them or bothering to apologize. They’re standing between him and Nasir, they don’t deserve his fucking courtesy.

Despite his desperate attempts to block out the memories, he finds his mind flashing back to another night, not so long ago, where he’d been just a terrified of losing his heart as he is now.

* * *

_They’d been leaving a political fundraiser that night - Spartacus was running for mayor again, using the same LGBT+ rights platform he’d used last time, and Nasir had spent the past three weeks helping him and Sura arrange everything. The result was a gala that wouldn’t have been out of place in a presidential election (and Agron wouldn’t lie - he was ridiculously proud of his boyfriend for helping to put all that together). Even the obligatory protestors who had stationed themselves in the hotel lobby with their “God hates fags” signs and steady stream of Bible verses hadn’t been able to dampen the evening._

_When they reached Agron’s car, he couldn’t resist lightly pushing Nasir up against the door and leaning in for a kiss. Nasir responded enthusiastically, grabbing Agron’s lapel and yanking him down closer._

_“You are so fucking gorgeous,” Agron rumbled against Nasir’s mouth, hands coming up to grip his hips tightly. “You should wear suits more often.”_

_“Why? I’ll be lucky if this one makes in onto our bedroom floor in one piece,” Nasir teased, nipping at Agron’s bottom lip._

_The other man snorted. Nasir wasn’t exaggerating. Agron gave a one-shouldered shrug in agreement and pulled Nasir’s hips flush against his own. “At this rate you’ll be lucky if it even makes it onto our bedroom floor at all.”_

_Agron gave a petulant grunt as Nasir abruptly pulled away, looking like he’d just thought of something important. “Shit, I left my wallet back at the table...” He made an annoyed face that Agron probably shouldn’t have found quite as adorable as he did and said, “I’m gonna run back in and grab it.”_

_“Do you want me to come with you?”_

_Nasir rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll be able to manage without a chaperone.” He angled his head up to peck Agron on the lips. “Start the car, I won’t be more than a few minutes.”_

_“Hurry back,” Agron murmured, leaning in for one more kiss before reluctantly pulling away and getting into the car. He couldn’t help glancing over to watch Nasir’s retreating form in the side mirror, grinning in anticipation at the thought of just what would happen to that suit when they got home._

_A moment later, a second figure appeared in the mirror. Agron didn’t know who they were and he didn’t care - all he cared about just then was the fact that they were holding a wooden baseball bat and moving towards Nasir with clear intent._

_For a moment, Agron couldn’t move. Couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe, could barely even think. Panic flooded every nerve in his body, paralyzing him for what seemed like forever, before the adrenaline kicked in, and then he was scrambling for the door handle, hurling himself out of the car - he’d never get over there in time, fuck, fuck, fuck - and frantically shouting out, “NASIR!”_

_It was like everything was happening in slow motion. The attacker raising the bat, ready to strike._

_Agron’s legs fruitlessly trying to get him across the seemingly endless space fast enough._

_Nasir turning around to look back, still smiling, completely unaware-_

Crack.

_Somehow Agron knew the sound of the bat’s impact, the sight of Nasir slumping gracelessly to the ground, would haunt him for the rest of his life._

_The attacker had brought the back up again, looking like he was going for another hit, but Agron finally reached them. He launched himself at the assailant like a freight train, propelling them both forward a few feet, and wrenched the bat away before the fucker even knew what had happened._

_Suddenly weaponless and in the presence of a very, very furious man almost twice his size, the attacker made a run for it._

_Agron wasn’t going to let him get away that easily. He caught up in two steps and immediately slammed the bat into the bastard’s kneecap, grinning savagely when he heard the satisfying crunch of bone. For a moment he was tempted - so tempted - to hit him again (and again and again), release all of his anger and rage on the now-helpless stranger - dimly part of Agron’s brain recognized him as one of the protestors from earlier, the fucking shit - but the need to check on Nasir won out._

_Tossing the bat aside and leaving the protestor where he lay crumpled and whimpering, Agron turned and threw himself onto his knees next to Nasir’s unmoving figure, muttering, “No...no no no…” His hands fumbled over Nasir’s neck, his wrist, desperately searching for a pulse, and when he couldn’t find one right away the muttering turned into yelling. “No no no,_ fuck! _”_

_Finally, a pulse. Faint, thready, but there. Agron almost collapsed in relief, burying his forehead in Nasir’s shoulder._

_“Please, live,” he whispered, reaching for his phone with a shaking hand. “That’s all I’m asking. Please. Live.”_

* * *

Agron shoves his way into the remains of Vesuvius and he’s immediately hit with the thick, cloying smell of smoke and blood. He brings a hand up to cover his face and forces his way further in, eyes darting everywhere for his boyfriend, heart racing faster and faster every second he doesn’t spot him.

A firefighter is yelling for people to leave the building if they’re able to, but Agron shuts out the sound of his voice. He’s not leaving this building unless it’s with Nasir. The firefighter grabs Agron’s shoulders, telling him, “Sir? Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave-”

Agron just barely manages to restrain himself from punching him, settling for shaking him off and almost bodily throwing him aside instead (and if the asshole tries to stop him again Agron will punch him). The firefighter, apparently sensing that getting in Agron’s way would be completely idiotic, doesn’t try to stop him again.

He’s well within the club now, and still no sign of Nasir. Desperation takes hold as Agron shouts out his name, willing him to appear in front of him. He sees a paramedic pulling a blanket over a figure with dark hair and for a second his heart stops and he almost passes out - but no, the hair is to short, the body too tall…

“ _NASIR!_ ” He screams it now, voice breaking. He strains to hear any form of reply, but if there is one it’s drowned out in the cacophony of sirens and shouting and cries for help - and what if Nasir can’t reply because he’s hurt or unconscious or- No. Agron doesn’t let himself finish the thought.

Another firefighter tries to pull him back, and this time Agron does throw a punch, because no one is going to stop him from getting to Nasir, even if he has to hit every single one of them, tear the fucking build apat with his bare hands-

And then he sees a blissfully familiar figure up ahead, helping a paramedic carry an older woman towards the exit, and Agron feels like he can finally breathe again.

He doesn’t say anything, just lunges forward, barely giving Nasir time to react before the smaller man is being pulled against Agron’s chest. They just cling to each other for a moment, Agron trying to get his heart to slow down by focusing on the feeling of Nasir in his arms, before reluctantly pulling apart. Agron cups Nasir’s sooty face in both hands and asks urgently, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He looks okay, albeit pale and shaken, but Agron wants to be sure…

Nasir nods unsteadily. “I’m fine...just a few scratches...shit, have you seen anyone else? I know Mira and Chadara got out…”

“Just Barca and Pietros.” Agron freezes. “Fuck, Saxa and Belesa…” He hasn’t had time to worry about them until now, but now that he knows Nasir is safe he lets his concern for his cousin and her partner blossom into full-fledged fear.

Nasir grasps his wrist and looks him in the eye, saying firmly, “I’m sure they’re both fine. You know Saxa, she’s always fine.”

Agron nods numbly and briefly touches his forehead to Nasir’s before saying, “Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

They’ve only made it a few steps outside the club before Chadara runs up to intercept them, exclaiming, “ _They found Saxa_ ,” and her tone of voice makes Agron fear the worst before she adds, “She’s alive, she’s just unconscious but they want to take her to the hospital.” Chadara points to where paramedics are carefully loading Saxa into the back of a waiting ambulance. “Belesa’s riding with them, Mira and I are gonna drive over after them.”

Agron nods numbly as he watches Belesa climb in after the medics. She’s pale and visibly shaking and looks like she’s only moments away from being sick or passing out, and Agron knows exactly how she’s feeling right now because he’s been in the same terrible, awful place she is.

Nasir follows his line of sight. “You should go with them,” he says firmly. “Belesa needs the support.”

“You’re not coming?”

“The EMTs seem like they could use all the help they can get right now - I figured I’d stay behind, see if I could do anything.” Nasir gives him an earnest look. “But if you need me to go with you-”

“No, it’s...it’s fine.” Truth be told Agron’s not crazy about the idea of letting Nasir out of his sight so soon (or ever again) but he knows that it’s in Nasir’s nature to want to help out as much as he can, and that Nasir’s conscience won’t let him just walk away that easily. “Besides, someone needs to make sure Barca and Pietros get home okay.”

Nasir nods, and Agron leans in to kiss him quickly before turning and jogging towards the ambulance.

In a weird way, he’s glad he’s going alone.

He’s not eager to see Nasir in a hospital anytime soon.

* * *

_Nasir didn’t wake up for three days._

_When the doctor said coma, it took all of Agron’s self-control - and Saxa - to keep himself from throwing his chair at the man’s head. Even when the doctor quickly added that the prognosis was good and they expected Nasir to recover fully, it didn’t calm Agron down, and he had opened his mouth to scream, demand they do_ something _, when they told him he could go in and see his boyfriend._

_Agron stepped into Nasir’s room and all the fight instantly drained out of him. He let Saxa guide him to the chair that had been set up next to the bed and slumped down into it, willing himself not to cry. Keeping the tears at bay was difficult, though - Nasir just looked so small and fragile and_ broken _…_

_Swallowing, Agron gently took one of Nasir’s hands in both of his and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, hoping that Nasir could somehow hear him. “I should have been faster, I should have gone with you, I was an idiot for letting you go alone…”_

_He closed his eyes and kissed Nasir’s hand again reverently. “Please wake up soon. I’ll do anything, fucking anything, if you do. Anything you ask...fuck, I would fucking fight God if it meant you’d be okay…” Agron managed to fight back the sob building in his throat and simply whispered once more, “_ Please _.”_

_Three days later, when Nasir’s eyes finally opened, Agron didn’t even bother trying to hold back the tears._

* * *

“She’s going to be just fine,” the doctor says to the small crowd congregated in the waiting room. “She does have a mild concussion, and we want to keep her overnight for observation, but there’s every indication she’ll make a fast recovery.”

Agron feels Belesa slump against him as she buries her face in her hands, a sob of relief shaking her shoulders. He rubs her back, letting out a relieved breath of his own and watching Chadara wrap Mira in a soothing hug. “Can we see her?” he asks, more for Belesa than himself (although he’s impatient to see that his cousin is, in fact, all right).

“Of course.”

Only two of them are allowed in at a time, so Agron escorts Belesa into the hospital room and watches the brunette practically fling herself across Saxa’s hospital bed. “ _Cariña_ ,” she mutters into her partner’s shoulder, a second before bursting into tears.

Saxa gives a groggy smile as she reaches up to stroke Belesa’s hair. “Shh, _schatz_ , I’m fine.” She presses a kiss to the top of Belesa’s head before giving Agron an impudent grin.

“I should have known your head was too thick for anything to damage it too badly,” Agron snarks, unable to keep the relief out of his voice even as he rolls his eyes. “Fuck you for making us all worry, though.”

“Aww, you were worried about me? I’m touched.”

“Shut up.” Any hostility in the words is negated by Agron’s hand softly coming up to brush against Saxa’s cheek. “I only worried because who else is gonna keep me in line if I lose you?”

Saxa scoffs. “If anyone on earth is capable of keeping you in line, it’s Nasir, not me.” Her expression turns suddenly serious, and her brow furrows as she asks, “Fuck, Nasir, we got separated, is he-”

“He’s fine,” Agron assures her, taking comfort in the memory of Nasir, whole and safe, kissing him before he left for the hospital. “He stayed behind to see if he could help the paramedics at all.”

Saxa’s eyebrows rise almost to her hairline. “Then what the _fuck_ are you doing here, you shithead? Bela, I need you to go over there and hit him for me, I’m not supposed to get out of bed…”

“Jesus, sorry for wanting to make sure you were okay, asshole,” Agron shoots back. “Next time I won’t bother.”

The blonde’s expression softens minutely, although she still looks like she wants to throw something at him. “And I _am_ okay. And I’m glad you were here when I woke up. And now I’m ordering you to get your ass back over there to your boyfriend and make sure he’s okay.” Saxa gives him a knowing look. “We both know he’s the one you need to be with right now.”

Agron opens his mouth to protest, but then he sees the way Saxa and Belesa are clinging to one another and all he can think of is how much he wants Nasir in his arms right now.

As usual, Saxa is completely right.

He rolls his eyes again and sighs in a way that signals acquiescence. “Fine,” he mutters, leaning down to kiss Saxa’s forehead. “But I’m only humoring you because you’re injured.”

“Uh-huh. Just get out of here, idiot.” Saxa pauses, pulling Belesa a little closer, and adds, “And tell the others to wait a few minutes before coming in, yeah?”

Agron snorts, grinning knowingly. “I’ll be sure to let them know. Try not to terrorize the nurses too much.”

As he leaves, he hears Saxa quietly murmuring, “I love you, _schatz_.”

* * *

_They were cuddled together in bed after a particularly vigorous round of sex when Nasir said it._

_“I love you, y’know.”_

_The words caught Agron completely off guard, and without meaning to he felt himself tensing up, his arms going stiff where they were wrapped tightly around Nasir’s middle. This was the first time either of them had said those words, and the only time Agron had heard them said by someone he’d slept with more than once, and he knew he was supposed to respond in kind, say something similar, but his mouth had gone completely dry and his throat was starting to close up..._

_As if reading his mind, Nasir smiled softly and pressed a kiss to Agron’s neck. “It’s okay,” he soothed, replacing his lips with his hand in an effort to massage away the sudden tension in Agron’s spine. “You don’t have to say it back.”_

_“Nasir…”_

_“Hey, allergic to romance, remember?” Nasir nuzzled his collarbone. “I mean, I probably would’ve had a heart attack if you did.” He kissed Agron’s neck again, just barely brushing his lips against the taller man’s skin. “I’m not asking for anything you’re not comfortable giving, Agron. If it takes you a while to say it - hell, even if you never say it - that’s okay.”_

_Slowly, Agron felt himself start to relax a little bit, even though his heart was still hammering in his chest. It wasn’t as though he didn’t_ want _to say it - he did. Or at least he was pretty sure he did. He just didn’t know if he could. He’d never said those words to anyone who wasn’t family, and the thought of saying them now was fucking terrifying._

_Reaching up to tangle his fingers in Nasir’s hair, he confessed, “I just...I don’t want to lose you if it turns out I can’t give you what you want…”_

_Nasir smiled. “You’re all I want.”_

* * *

When Agron gets back to Vesuvius, he’s nowhere near as frantic as he was, but he’s still thrumming with tension. He sees Nasir walking towards him and feels himself relax just a little, barely enough to be noticeable.

“Is Saxa okay?” Nasir asks when they reach each other.

Agron nods shakily, unable to say anything as he pulls Nasir into a tight embrace, fisting his hands in the shorter man’s shirt and burying his face in the crook of his neck. He feels Nasir hugging back just as strongly and tightens his hold, trying to get as close to his boyfriend as possible.

After a few moments, Nasir pulls away slightly, making a noise of discomfort - which isn’t surprising, he’s probably bruised all over - and Agron moves back slightly, his arms still hovering between them.  “I heard what happened on the radio,” he hears himself saying dumbly - he’s pretty sure talking is the only thing keeping him from completely freaking out right now. “I tried to call you...you didn’t answer…”

Nasir grimaces, looking guilty. “I must’ve dropped my phone...Shit, I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t mean to make you worry…”

Agron nods, rubbing a hand over his face and taking a deep breath, trying to calm down. Nasir’s fine, everyone’s fine, but the fear is still there and he doesn’t know why.

“I was...so fucking scared.” Agron forces a weak laugh as he says it, but he still sounds terrified. “All...all I could think was, ‘Please don’t let anything happen to him...’” His voice breaks on the last word and he feels tears start to prick at the corner of his eyes.

And that’s when he realizes that he hadn’t just been afraid of losing Nasir. He’d been afraid of losing Nasir before Nasir knew just how much he meant to Agron. How much Agron cared about him. How much he-

Before he even knows what he’s doing, Agron is leaning in again, wrapping his arms around Nasir once more and brushing his lips against his ear as he whispers, “ _I love you_.”

He doesn’t hear so much as feel Nasir’s soft huff of surprise against his neck, and suddenly everything just feels so right. The fear all but vanishes, replaced with a warm feeling that flows through Agron’s body like a tide. He kisses Nasir’s temple, holding his lips there for a long while before pulling away and saying the words again, louder, more emphatically. “I love you.”

And then Nasir is smiling incredulously and Agron can’t stop himself from smiling back and going in for a kiss, the two of the swaying on the spot a little. When they finally part for air, Nasir cups Agron’s face and presses their foreheads together, still smiling, and Agron knows it’s probably the adrenaline crash but he feels like walking on fucking air, and as he pulls Nasir back in for another close hug he murmurs it one more time.

“ _I love you_.”

 


End file.
